


H(a)unter

by Measured_Words



Category: Original Work
Genre: Ghosts, Love, Other, Soul Bond, Vampire Hunters, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 08:20:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13566585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Measured_Words/pseuds/Measured_Words
Summary: Ehyr is a vampire hunter, but she didn't really mean to be.  She has someone to protect.





	H(a)unter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eluvia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eluvia/gifts).



The stone of the tomb was cool, and Ehyr could feel a draft flowing up from the earth. It ran like a knife up the fingers of her right hand, and she clutched the sword in her left more tightly. There were vampires here, for certain. She drew a deep breath of the outside air, and slowly spoke the words of warding. A ripple passed through her hair that had nothing to do with any breeze, and she heard echoes of other words in her mind, trying to confound her senses.

_Hush,_ she thought, _I'm doing this for you._

The villagers had thought there was only one, plus the missing girl, but Ehyr knew how easy it was to underestimate their numbers. They were careful, and clever, and tricky – but not enough. As a hunter, you learned quickly from your mistakes, or you died, and Ehyr had been doing this for almost two decades now.

There were four vampires, groggy with the sun still high in the day, but the eldest still fought hard. Ehyr hesitated over the girl. Her skin was still warm, her features distinctly human, her groan at unexpected waking too close an echo of life. Then she hissed, baring her fangs. The smell of blood was strong on her breath, and Ehyr struck as doubt and mercy both fled from her mind.

Some mistakes were less fatal, yet more painful than death. She'd sworn he would not repeat to any what she had done to Asan.

Her beautiful Asan. Her laughing, changeable river… Standing at the threshold of her family house, skirts wrapped around slender hips, beckoning…

"Stop," she muttered, shaking the memories away, "not now." It was dangerous to hesitate at this stage. The fight had been draining, and she wasn't sure she would be able to repeat it if she didn't complete the rites in time. The sand on the floor eddied angrily at her rejection, spraying up at her face, but she ignored it as she ignored the aches in her body.

Cut off the head, place it at the feet of the corpse. Remove the heart, put it in a clay vessel with certain herbs and a sprig of year-old oak. Place this at the head of the corpse. Bind the soul, confuse the body. This worked on a true vampire, a corrupted soul wrapped in flesh that had feasted on human life.

Other hunters she'd met used less certain methods, binding the souls to themselves to call on their power, but one soul in her custody was enough for Ehyr.

She hadn't known. She hadn't – but no matter how many times she told herself this, Asan's spirit was still bound to her, unable to find peace or rest, vulnerable to the powers that would enslave it to less savoury ends, or consume it utterly.

Vampires thrived on blood, but souls empowered them. Humans for life, ghosts for strength. Without them, their minds degraded as they grew older, and they became nothing more than mad, ravaging, night beasts. It was part of the corruption, and therein lay a dangerous irony. A human could only be turned if they were completely drained of blood, and fed some in return, but it took the rise and set of the sun for the taint to overtake the spirit. If the body was destroyed before the transformation was completed, they would not rise as undead, but the tainted spirit would nevertheless be exiled from the underworld as well as their mortal shell.

The sun was still high in the sky, and Ehyr lay her back against the cool stones of the tomb. It would be safe to travel at night, and she was tired, and sore. There was a buzzing in the air, and at the edges of her thoughts, as Asan calmed. Asan’s spirit fought against Ehyr when she went hunting, playing tricks on her mind, distracting her with what minor manifestations she could invoke. It was the taint, the curse, protecting its ilk, and Ehyr forgave this. It always passed, and as Asan came back to her, she felt a warm feeling flood through her body, joy and love and forgiveness.

Asan had always been special, to Ehyr above all others. She’d been out of her mind with grief when the vampires had come. She’d followed the hunter despite his disuasion, and acted out of mad passion, running her sword through Asan’s body so that the night feasters couldn’t have it. The hunter had been furious. He’d wanted her spirit, but instead, it attached to Ehyr. She hadn’t understood, but she’d fought him too, and somehow won. And now Asan was her constant companion, and she’d turned to hunting to keep them both safe.

No one could tell a ghost what it had to be - girl, boy, anything else. At least Asan had that long craved freedom for now, even if safety was a constant issue. Ehyr didn’t know what would happen to Asan when she died. Maybe she could beg passage for the spirit. Maybe it would follow her there, the strength of their bond enough to override any objection of the gods. Ehyr wasn’t ready to face other possibilities, and closed her eyes, letting the shared memories wash through her: running through the fields around the village, playing in the river, kissing, learning each other’s bodies…

_‘Yes,’_ she thought, _‘I love you too.’_


End file.
